Soldiering On
by Lilith Lunatic
Summary: When Rodney makes a descision, he doesn't know the consequences elsewhere. With him gone, what are the rest of the Atlanteans to do? Get into trouble of course. Little do they know they have a guardian angel of sorts.
1. Prologue: Big Bang Blast

**I don't own anything…**

**Stargate: Atlantis**

_**Soldiering On**_

**Prologue: Big Bang Blast**

There was a huge gust of fiery air and the sudden ear-splitting noise of a bomb going off and Rodney knew it was over. The immediate cool of the heated atmosphere and the deafening ringing followed. He sighed. That was it. Nothing more he could do on his end. It was up to Colonel Sheppard and the rest to figure out the rest from here. He had completed his mission. All that was left was to wait it out. Still, that somehow seemed wrong to him. He should be up, working on a further way to drive the enemy from the point of origin. Maybe… maybe…

He picked himself from the had metal floor, knowing there was little chance of the ship having enough oxygen and power to get him back to the gate, much less take on another round with the Wraith darts. He also knew that the forced blast had caused a great depletion of the ship's capabilities.

Rodney's eyes scanned the monitors. He was right, it was hopeless…

…_And_ there was that huge hive ship headed straight his way…

Shit.

He watched the screens again, an idea forming…

He could always use the remaining power of the jumper to overload and send it careening toward the Wraith's hive ship. He had two of the mass generators in the back. It could be enough. It was worth a shot…

…It was also complete and utter suicide. After all, this was a suicide mission… Boy was he glad he had used the beaming technology he had wired to a homing device to send the others back already. The last shot had been dangerous. He was lucky the jumper had not split in two. The others were safe. There was no reason not to try it… except…

What about him?

Rodney found himself hesitating to go through with it… but he _had_ to.

If there was ever a time to suck it up, be a man, and do what had to be done… it was now…

Rodney found he wanted his mother…

Shit. Again.

The ship was getting closer… surely, the Wraith would want to play with there prize if the caught him…

Then that was it. Here goes nothing… and everything…

Rodney fiddled with the controls, rushed to the back and jack-wired the generators then came back the front, set the speed the course, put it on autopilot, then sat back and waited for the boom.

From Atlantis's long-range sensors, it was a magnificent explosion.

**Please, tell me what you think. It's my first SG:A fic and I'd like any feedback, criticism, suggestions, etc. that you can provide. Thank you.**

**Lilith.**


	2. Chapter 1: Continuance and Questioning

**I wish Rodney was mine, but, alas… not.

* * *

**

**Stargate: Atlantis**

_**Soldiering On**_

**Chapter One: Continuance and Questioning**

"I'm sorry, Colonel, there's no sign of him…" one of the technicians stated in a weak voice. None of them had expected _that_ to happen, but it had. Dr. McKay had sacrificed himself to save them from the Wraith. If the had reached the planet of Bertilde, the Wraith would have found the keys to a hundred different hidden planets, including a way to Atlantis… and Earth.

He was a hero.

Yet, John Sheppard was pissed off. That wasn't up to Rodney McKay. Sure, on a handful of other occasions, the astrophysicist had saved their asses with his quick mind and unheard of solutions, but they had had it covered from here. Actually, John wasn't even supposed to _be here_. He was supposed to be back on that jumper, handling the situation. If McKay hadn't been such a sneaky bastard, he'd still be there helping him, finding a solution and Rodney wouldn't be…

They'd had it handled from here. He shouldn't have had to die, and he _didn't _have to.

It wasn't fair. McKay was a genius, but he could be a real dumb ass sometimes. This was one of those times. This was the last time…

It was funny how fast you could wrap your mind around someone being dead when you saw them blow up…

Ronon placed a hand on his tense shoulder, Teyla took his hand, and he let them lead him out of and away from the Gate room.

There was nothing to be done.

* * *

Dr. Weir watched the sea roll in, thinking. Rodney McKay had died. She would have to inform his sister. How would she tell her? What would she say when she found out? What was there _to_ say? Elizabeth didn't know.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Rodney, while often a pain, had been her friend, a companion at surprising times, always ready to talk or lend a shoulder when and where she needed it, but never exposing the fact to anyone else that she had ever done so.

He had saved Atlantis. Again. He had saved Atlantis, other worlds, and many people so many times before she couldn't count. How many times had he been thanked?

And, after losing friends and colleagues and people like family, how often had he been comforted?

When he was suffering emotionally, how often had someone gone to him and talked him through it?

The answer to all these questions was the same: not nearly enough.

Elizabeth Weir sighed again, feeling like she should cry. But she couldn't. Not for lack of compassion, just for lack of energy, a stupid reason really. She resided that she would cry later, when she could muster enough strength to break down.

It was funny how much it took simply to grieve…

She turned from the ocean and headed for her office.

There was so much to be done.

* * *

Doctors Beckett and Zelenka sat across from one another at a table in the deserted mess hall, each with their hands wrapped around a mug of cooling tea, but neither drinking.

It was hard to believe. Rodney McKay: dead. He'd gone through so much, been scathed by death so many times, come back from the brink so many times, it was damn near impossible to believe that Rodney wasn't coming back _this_ time out of so many other times.

It had yet to sink in for either of them, for neither had been in the Gate room when it happened, both shamefully glad they hadn't.

They were being selfish, they both knew. Carson had patients that needed him. Radek had projects that needed him. Neither made to leave. They needed the peace. Both understood why McKay snuck in here in the wee hours of the morning for more than just a snack. The desolate mess had a quiet peace all of its own, a settled silence. It was a good place to think.

And think they did. Both of them had had their problems with Rodney, in similar and different ways. But they both had connections with him that made his loss so… so _pain filled_…

He was their friend. Their friend who they would never again see, never again work along side, never again heal, or share playful banter, or argue at one another, or give a speech to, or feel angry and frustrated with, or laugh at, or laugh with.

Never again.

"This bloody sucks," Beckett said quietly.

"Yes. Arrogant bastard," Zelenka stated in whispered tones without any real contempt.

"Aye… if only…"

"If only…"

"So many things…"

"Too many things…"

It was funny how much there was to be said and yet it was unneeded.

And they fell quiet again, letting the somber silence engulf them.

There was so much and yet nothing to be done.

* * *

**I would find it incredibly helpful and feel so glad to have any and all comments, questions, suggestions, etc. you have. Please, leave message.**

**Thank you all that have already reviewed. Your support is duly appreciated.**

**Lilith.**


	3. Chapter 2: Visiting and Revisiting

**Stargate: Atlantis**

_**Soldiering On**_

**Chapter Two: Visiting and Revisiting**

_The summer day was hot and humid, just like it always was before a big rain. A soft wind blew through the leaves of a big, gnarled butternut tree in the back yard where two sleepy eyed children were resting against it while watching the clouds float by lazily. Today was supposed to be a sad day._

_"Hey, Rodney?" asked the sister, poking her brother half-heartedly in his pudgy side._

_"Yes, Jeannie?" answered the brother, blinking slowly as he turned toward the little blond girl at his side._

_"D'you think Uncle Gene's alright now?"_

_"S'pose so. Guess everyone's all right once they die. Least that's what mother says."_

_Jeannie blinked and gave him a funny look. Since when had Rodney called Mommy 'mother?' She thought about it for a minute before deciding that it wasn't because he was growing up, it was because he was tired and sleepy and sad that his favorite uncle wasn't going to be around anymore. Yes, that was it. It couldn't be because he was growing up because that would mean he was leaving childhood behind, leaving _her_ behind. Nope, definitely not that._

_"Rodney?"_

_"Yes, Jeannie?"_

_"Don't grow old on me, okay?"_

_"Okay, Jeannie."_

_"Because if you do… then we won't get to play anymore. Because when you grow up, you have to get old. I don't want you to get old on me, Rodney, because then you'll die. I don't want you to die."_

_"I don't want you to die either."_

_"If you gotta… don't without me. I don't wanna be alone, Roddie…"_

_"I'm not going to leave you alone, Jeannie."_

_"Promise?" sister asked, holding up the Sacred Pinky of Yore with good will intended._

_"I promise," brother said, taking the proffered finger with his own._

_"I love you, Roddie…" _

"I _hate _him!" Jeannie grumbled under her breath as she rushed through Atlantis towards Dr. Weir's office. '_Damn, Rodney, damn him!_' Why had he done this? That selfish, arrogant, brilliant brother of hers. They had just sort of settled their arguments, and he went and got himself blown up. Bastard!

Jeannie entered the room where Weir, Sheppard, Dex, Teyla, and Beckett were waiting for her. Dr. Weir greeted her with a sad nod toward a chair, but Jeannie didn't particularly feel like sitting. The others were watching her apprehensively. Good.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Jeannie asked first. She had plenty of questions that she expected answers for, but this was the one that needed getting out of the way first.

"There was nothing we could do, Mrs. Miller," Dr. Weir explained soothingly.

"Of course there was!" Jeannie shouted at them. "There were plenty of things that could have been done! How was it that you just happen to jump right over those and get him killed?"

"There was not-" Weir began again.

"You're right. There was plenty things we could have done… _if_ McKay had allowed them. However, he didn't. He did what he had to do." John interrupted, standing slowly.

"He didn't! He didn't have to do that! Someone else could have, or you could've done it by remote or something! That didn't have to happen to him…" Jeannie shrieked, trying to hold back tears, but failing miserably.

And John completely agreed with her…

_John watched a surely tired McKay fiddle with one of the random Ancient devices that cluttered the lab. He smiled, McKay, though often rude and a little too blunt at times, was a hard worker, always going at it._

_"You going to stand at the door all night or come in and tell me what you want," Rodney spoke suddenly, startling John. But only a little._

_"Just came to congratulate you for saving the day again. You did good," John said, coming a little further into the room._

_"I didn't do it to save the day, Sheppard. It simple self-preservation. Nothing 'good' about wanting to save your own skin. But I guess you wouldn't know about that would you?" Rodney snapped, turning away from Sheppard._

_"Can't even take a compliment…" John muttered under his breath._

_"I can take a compliment, believe me. I just don't take bullshit. I won't take credit for something I didn't do, or did do but it's been misconstrued into something I didn't. I'll take credit where credit is due and deserved."_

_"Then, believe me, McKay, you deserve it…"_

And he deserved it again. He'd saved them all. Only this time… he was around so John could tell him that. He wouldn't be ever again.

John felt cold. His heart hurt. He missed Rodney.

"You don't understand how this feels-!" Jeannie's shrill voice broke through his thoughts.

"You're not the only one who's lost someone by this! You're not the only one in pain here!" Carson shouted, disturbing everyone at his anger, taking them aback for a moment. "You're not the only one…" Carson was shaking, but not from anger anymore. His voice broke in a sob. John looked toward Teyla and Weir at one side of the room. Teyla was weeping silently, Elizabeth had her hands over her face, her shoulders shaking. Ronon stood off against the wall, staring off into nothing, wiping something away from beneath his eyes.

John felt something warm slide down his face. It was a tear.

The mourning began just as morning began…

_Ronon came up next to Rodney as he mumbled bitterly over some ruins as he tried to decipher the faded and mangled text._

_"You think people would take better care of there histories, but no, guess they just can't wait to repeat the past back to primitive times of hitting to rocks together and banging their heads against the walls of whatever cave they happened to be inhabiting this moon cycle," McKay grumbled irritably._

_"Some don't like remembering the past; perhaps they find it too painful," Ronon offered, blocking images of his own wanderings._

_"Don't we all at some point?" McKay batted back, looking distant and lost for a moment, then breaking out of it with a frustrated sound. "Anyway, there could be something helpful here against the Wraith that's forever lost because people were too careless with their resources."_

_"Different people react different ways to their pasts, McKay," Ronon countered._

_"Ah, yes, but they also have a responsibility to preserve it. When someone has a responsibility to take care of something, they should for the sake of others."_

_"Whatever you say, McKay…" Ronon sighed, looking about for any sign of trouble…_

But trouble had come knocking and McKay had felt like it was up to him to send it packing. That wasn't _his_ responsibility, and it never should've been that way.

Ronon sighed, catching the look a teary Teyla gave him. She offered a sad smile. He nodded.

He watched as Beckett tried to put some sense into Mrs. Miller. Carson was right; she wasn't the only one who had lost him. Maybe she would see that.

Carson looked to John, Teyla, and then himself. He seemed so sad. Ronon knew Rodney had considered Carson his closest friend. He hoped Carson knew that…

"_You're vindictive, you know that?" Rodney hissed through clenched teeth._

_"Aye, you've said something to that effect earlier today," Carson noted calmly. He hated watching Rodney suffer like this. The withdrawal only seemed to be getting worse, not better._

_"Good. Because you are, you know. Evil that is," Rodney sputtered. Well, at least he was making a bit more sense now. "Evil, voodoo doctor. You really should have a bone through your nose. Makes it easier to tell…"_

_Carson could only smile as Rodney rambled on, knowing if he could insult him with making at least a little care, Rodney was going to be just fine…_

This time nothing was fine. Carson sighed, trying to remain calm after exploding at Rodney's sister once. He didn't need to do that again. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

And right now, elsewhere was where they needed to be. Maybe this is why Zelenka had refused to come to the meeting with Mrs. Miller. There were too many pent up emotions that seemed to have been released all at once. It seems a distraught sibling was what it took to get them all to face their pain. Carson looked up at John, only to see his retreating back. Apparently, Carson wasn't the only one who needed some air and space to think…

They all needed time. Time and essence were working together today. Tonight was the funeral… And tonight, well, tonight was the time for goodbyes.

John Sheppard couldn't breathe. There was an invisible monster crushing his heart, squeezing it tight to the point he thought his chest was going to blow open. He had to get out of there, away. He needed to breathe.

John pushed a couple of irked scientists out of the way and jumped into the transporter, not looking as he pressed a location. He closed his eyes and focused on inhaling and exhaling.

When he opened his eyes again he nearly screamed and jumped out of his skin. He'd ended up near one of McKay frequent hiding spots: a balcony on one of the less visited piers overlooking the vast ocean.

John calmed himself down. He needed air or his lungs were going to burst. He rushed out onto the balcony, huffing in the salty air around him.

He couldn't do this, but he didn't have a choice. McKay was… dead and there was nothing he could do. He hated this feeling of helplessness. He hated feeling like everything had been taken out of his hands and he no longer had control over the course of his life. Being someone who took control of others' lives, this new feeling scared him beyond his understanding. This sucked. How did he manage to get everything so fucked up?

John slid against the wall, watching the waves roll towards and away from Atlantis. This shouldn't be happening.

But it was. It was, and McKay wasn't around to fix it.

John would just have to find a way to do that himself.

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**The funeral is the next chapter and there's a lot that has to be settled before they actually have it. Who knows, it may get pushed further back.**

**I would be deeply thankful for any questions, criticisms, comments, suggestions, and the like you have. I thank everyone who has reviewed for their support and advice.**

**A special thank you goes to **_**Exangeline**_** for constructive advice and recent suggestion.**

**If anyone knows where I can find a well-versed **_**Stargate: Atlantis**_** fan to be my beta reader, I would be most appreciative.**

**Thank you everyone.**

**Almost forgot, I don't own nothing.**

**-Lilith.**


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